3: ISABELLA & RYAN [Part 1 ]

The dining room feels like a cage. My mother’s pleading eyes bore into me, silently begging for compliance, but I’m not the one who bends. Not anymore. Haesung’s voice cuts through the tension, calm but laced with an authority that grates against my skin. “Not a lot will change.”

Mom's skeptical glance says otherwise, and I feel the same unease twisting in my gut.

Haesung’s gaze shifts to me, his smile so patronizing it does nothing to soften the storm brewing in his dark eyes. “You’ll be expected to accompany Ryan, Athina, and Basil to social events.

The family must present a united front.”

A united front? I almost laugh. Social events are my personal hell—I’m a homebody, not some glittering ornament for their mafia masquerade. And Nikolas? Spending time with him is the last thing I want. His arrogance, his cold intensity—it’s like standing too close to a fire that could burn me alive.

Before I can protest, Haesung barrels on, his voice a steady hammer driving nails into my freedom. “Every Sunday, you’ll attend lunch with us.”

Sundays?

What if I’m drowning in exams? My studies are my lifeline, my escape from this world they’re trying to drag me into. I open my mouth to argue, but Peter doesn’t pause.

“And you’ll have two guards with you at all times.”

My jaw drops. My eyebrow shoots up. For a moment, I’m speechless, shaking my head like some dumbfounded fool.

*Two guards?*

The words echo in my mind, heavy with implication.

This is it. The beginning of the end. They’re trying to mold me into a mafia princess—a puppet on their strings, stripped of freedom, destined for an arranged marriage and a life of gilded misery. I’ve seen it happen. I know what it looks like.

My chest tightens, the air in the room growing thick and suffocating. No freedom. No choices. Just a slow descent into a life I’ve fought tooth and nail to avoid. The demands will keep coming, piling on until I’m buried, until I’m nothing but a shadow of myself, swallowed whole by the mafia.

I force my voice to work, though it trembles with the effort. “What if I don’t have time for social events? My studies consume every second of my life, and exams are only going to get worse.” I suck in a breath, clinging to the faint hope that I can negotiate my way out. “And guards? I’m either at home or on campus. I don’t need babysitters.”

Haesung shoves his chair back with a screech, rising to his full height. His eyes burn with disapproval, a warning glinting in their depths. “It’s not negotiable, Isabella. You’ll do as you’re told.”

*Do as I’m told?*

The words ignite something feral inside me. I surge to my feet, meeting his piercing glare with one of my own, unyielding and fierce. “You think marrying my mom gives you the right to order me around, Haesung? You’re her husband, not my father. You and your so-called mafia family have no idea what I’ve been through to get here, to carve out this life. I won’t let you take it from me.”

His silence cuts deeper than any retort could. My words have wounded him, but the sting of his dismissal hurts just as much. Without another word, he stalks out of the dining room, Basil trailing behind like a loyal shadow. The air grows heavier in their absence, leaving just Mom, Athina, and me at the table.

I turn to my mother, shock and betrayal warring in my chest. She offers me that familiar encouraging smile—the one she used to give when I came home bruised and broken, when she thought my injuries were from clumsiness rather than Irene’s cruelty. That smile drags up memories I’ve fought so hard to bury, memories of a time when fear and sorrow were my only companions. For a moment, I’m teetering on the edge of that dark abyss, my hands trembling, cold sweat pricking my skin.

I take a deep breath, then another, willing the panic to subside. I need to end this conversation and get back to my apartment, my sanctuary. “Mamá,” I say, my voice low but firm, my fists clenched to hide the shaking. “This is too much.”

“We’re not asking a lot, agápi mou,” Mom replies, her tone softer, almost pleading.

“Not asking a lot?” I echo, incredulous. “Sunday lunches every week? Guards following me everywhere? Social events?” I shake my head, my voice rising. “You know how much my studies mean to me. You know I don’t do well in crowds. And now you want me to have two strangers in my personal space, shadowing my every move?”

“Stop, Isabella!” Mom’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, her voice sharp. “You’re making a scene.”

A scene? I blink, my gaze dancing over her face as I struggle to make her understand. “I’m trying to explain, Mamá. You’ve always supported my independence—encouraged it, even. And now you’re asking me to give it up?”

Athina chimes in, her voice calm but unhelpful. “It’s not that bad, Isabella. We usually only attend one social event a month.”

One event a month. A small concession, but it’s something. Relief flickers in my chest, faint but real. I can handle one event, maybe. I’ll stick to Athina’s side, use her as a shield against Ryan and his suffocating presence. She offers a comforting smile. “You don’t have to socialize. We’ll just make an appearance.”

But then Mom’s voice cuts through again, softer but no less devastating. “Soon, we’ll be part of the Kim family.”

The words hit like a slap. “I’m not part of the Kim family,” I snap, my voice trembling with defiance. “I’m Isabella Harper Mamá.

Did you forget?”

Her hurt expression pierces me, but I can’t back down. Not now. Not when I feel the walls closing in. Mom has always been my biggest supporter, cheering for my independence, my dreams. And now she’s standing on the other side, pulling me toward a life that could destroy me.

“I won’t let this happen,” I say, my voice low but resolute. I step closer, my hands gripping her shoulders. “I’m happy for you, Mamá. I’m happy you’re getting the life you want. But you know what I’ve been through. You know it almost killed me before. If I get sucked into this mafia world, it *will* kill me.”

I pull back, forcing a tight smile to mask the storm raging inside. “I have to work on the screenplay for class. Thank you for dinner.” I glance at Athina, keeping the smile in place, though it feels like a lie.

“It was nice meeting you.”

I pause, my voice hardening. “And one more thing—if my *stepbrother* has a problem with my decisions, tell him to come talk to me himself.”

I turn on my heel, chin lifted, and stride out of the dining room. Haesung and Basil’s voices drift from somewhere in the house, but I don’t stop to say goodbye. I make a beeline for the front door, climbing into the waiting SUV without a backward glance. As the driver pulls through the heavy iron gates, my hands clench into fists on my lap, knuckles white with the force of my resolve.

Before tonight, I didn’t like the idea of Mom marrying Haesung. Now? I *hate* it.

I’ve seen what happens to girls like me—friends from school, cousins raised as mafia princesses. They’re nothing but puppets, polished and poised, decorating the arms of men they were forced to marry. Every single one of them is trapped in a life of abuse and misery, their dreams ground to dust.

That’s not a life. It’s a prison.

They’ll try to strip away my independence, bit by bit, until I’m nothing but a shell, obeying their every command. I’ll have to give up my dreams, my writing, my future. But I won’t. No matter what it takes, I won’t become another mafia princess.

The SUV glides across the city, and I focus on breathing, on keeping the panic at bay. When we finally stop outside my building, I bolt from the car, skipping the elevator and racing up the stairs. Only when I slam my apartment door behind me do I let myself breathe, the air rushing into my lungs like a lifeline.

I flick on the light, my eyes sweeping over my sanctuary. White walls, light blue accents, potted plants breathing life into the space. This apartment, bought with my inheritance, is mine. My studies, paid for with the money my father left me, are mine. Mom covers my monthly expenses, but what happens when she’s married to Haesung? Will he take control of her finances? Will he use my allowance to manipulate me? Or worse—will Ryan

The thought sends a shiver down my spine. Ryan with his cold eyes and commanding presence, holding the reins of my life? It’s a nightmare I can’t let become reality.

I need a job. Now. Something to secure my independence, to keep them from pulling my strings. Kicking off my shoes, I change into leggings and a t-shirt, tie my hair back, and grab my laptop. Settling onto the plush couch, I start crafting a resume, my fingers flying over the keys as I search job listings. With every word I type, I feel my equilibrium returning, my resolve hardening.

I am Isabella Harper Not Kim. Not a pawn. And no matter what they throw at me, I will not let them take my life away.

To be continued ..

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***